


Fate Unraveled

by EggsterAndTheBacon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hermione is a Potter, Hogwarts, Little Sisters, Marauders, Marauders' Era, No Horcruxes, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Siblings, Sirius Black Lives, Time Travel, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 06:05:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12451158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggsterAndTheBacon/pseuds/EggsterAndTheBacon
Summary: With a spiked drink and a new prophecy, Hermione is thrown into the fate of being the younger sister to James Potter. Her mind shares the one of Hermione Granger and the mind of a little sister who just wants her brother to still be her friend. Follow as she walks the same halls as the marauders, Slytherins, and more.





	Fate Unraveled

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! New story, comment any mistakes/thoughts/ideas, trust me i will always respond. And i really hope you enjoy and i'll try to update often.

Screams bounced off the walls, letting her pained cries be heard be herself and herself only. Ragged breaths left her, and Hermione felt the chain around her neck grow hotter, scaring the flesh beneath it. Her nails were dug deep into the doorway, an attempt to claw it open. How she had begged for death, 38 days – she’d counted, here stuck in this cold clammy room with the only heat coming from the metal chain wrapped around her neck.

 

She’d seen his message five days ago, and now she refused to give up. He promised he was coming, he would save her from this misery that had her tortured as a daily. The doorknob twisted and Hermione jumped back, her eyes wide and panicky.

 

“Sirius?” His black hair was knotted and his pale bony face looked at her, as if wondering if she was real. She couldn’t be surprised, not when he had watched his godson be mauled into little pieces long after he’d already been killed.

 

“Hermione.” His voice was raspy and his hand reached out, grazing her hair, she was alive, she was breathing. Relief flooded her senses and Hermione could have yelled her thanks had the situation not been so solemn.

 

“I got your message,” she sniffed, her eyes filling to the brim with salty tears – she hated crying, from the lack of water, and the way her lips were chapped she was desperate enough to lick the ones that fell to the ground.

 

His message had been risky, dangerous had it been seen, and Hermione knew she wouldn’t have seen tomorrow had he been caught. It was during one of the nights where she had wished that she could be detached from herself, feel nothing but the heart beating in her chest. A white wispy thing had appeared at her side, it took the shape of a dog – the dog she’d met in her third year, Padfoot. ‘Live another day’ and then it was gone, its former self joining the breeze.

 

A sad smile was on his face and he nodded. “Let’s go home.”

 

Home – home changed a lot. First it was with her parents, then it had been the Burrow and Grimmuld Place, a tent at one point, and countless others followed afterwards. She felt the nasty chain fall from her neck onto the ground, and with no last glance she followed Sirius out of the cell.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Hermione had a scrappy blanket drawn across herself, her feet tucked in beneath her on the couch. The cup of coffee given to her an hour ago sat forgotten on the coffee table. “Who?” There was no context needed for the question, it was asked every time at the end of the day and Hermione had never refused the answer when it had been asked – but it was different with Sirius, he despised the answer, never wanted to be the person to ask or tell.

 

An uncomfortable silence fell around the cottage, and Sirius stare was on a shoe that lay by the doorway.

 

“Sirius,” she spoke harshly, her words demanding of an answer – there was no reason for friendly conversation. “Who?”

 

“Lovegood, the Patils, Molly last week, and,” he cut himself off, grabbing the firewhiskey from the table and putting it to his mouth. Three gulps later and he was running his hands threw his hair, looking like he wished to snap his own neck. “Teddy, they got Teddy.”

 

Hermione shut her eyes, wincing. It hurt but it hurt more that it wasn’t a surprise, he was a four-year-old who was standing in the middle of an outrageous war. “Sirius, I’m sorry that you were alone for that.” There wasn’t a reply, only him offering the second bottle that was sat by his side. She accepted.

 

After hushed minutes, her eyes began inspecting every label, her thumb pressed harshly against her head as she felt a horrible head ache hit her. “Sirius,” she groaned in agony. “What the bloody hell is in this thing?”

 

“De-aging potion… a good lot of it too,” he answered simply as he reached over and plucked the bottle out of her hands. He watched as her eyes bugged out and she look at him with the horrified expression that had been sported once before during her mother’s execution. The blanket fell down a bit, and Hermione let out a scream as her bones began to shrink as she clawed at her skin. It was in moments that her body rolled of the couch and she held her head for protection did he finally notice that she was already in the body of a small child.

 

“You make a cute kid,” he joked sadly but he regretted it instantly at her miserable look. He could see her lips tremble in discomfort as she winced yet again in agonizing pain, her eyes scrunching up as she did so. He knew that she was feeling a sense of betrayal but Sirius refused to be guilty – this was meant to happen.

 

“Hermione, look I’m- I’m not sorry.” Her eyes showed the amount of offence she took. “I ran into Trelawney – yes I know you hate her! But a new prophecy has come out and basically fate fucked up,” he sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “You weren’t meant to be Hermione Granger, you were meant to be Hermione Potter.”

 

Hermione shot him a confused glance but allowed him to keep talking. “You were meant to be born in another time, and if we want to win the war and live the right life. You have to be sent back.”

 

“If, what you’re saying is true, then why did you de-age me to a child and not a baby?” she questioned, wrapping herself into a protective cocoon with the blanket.

 

Sirius gave her a tired grin, glad that she was in a considerate mood and wasn’t calling bullshit on him. “I thought that when you go back, I’m not quite sure when and where or how it really works, but it may be easier having a child’s mind.” Hermione nodded her head before lolling it to the side.

 

“You’re saying you don’t even know how to send me back?” The look she gave him was one she gave those who made her believe that the world was filled with people that had no common sense.

 

A breeze ran through the room and Sirius shook his head. “No, I don’t know what the facts are but after a discussion with McGonagall she believes this is what you need.” He pulled a vial out of his pocket, the liquid inside was a gooey purple with little bubbles at the top. “Highly illegal.” He shot her a smirk and threw it to her.

 

Scowling at him, she gave it a tentative sniff, before meeting his eyes. “What is it?” Sirius gave a sad noncommittal shrug of his shoulders.

 

“Dunno, took Minny a week to have it ready though,” he supplied. Hermione twisted the cap open and peered inside, it didn’t have a very inviting smell but she really didn’t have anything to lose. Death was a better freedom then living.

 

“Wish me luck?” she asked, holding it to her lips.

 

 

 

 

“Good luck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please comment any mistakes/ideas/thoughts.


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